


Sublimation

by tromana



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Noir, F/M, Film Noir, Implied Sexual Content, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 18:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tromana/pseuds/tromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[noir-ish AU] In search for information on the killer of his family, Red John, Patrick Jane pursues Teresa Lisbon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sublimation

**Author's Note:**

> For justlook3

Smoke cloyed in the air as Patrick Jane wove his way through the crowd and to the bar. He wasn't looking for alcohol; that clouded his senses too much, and his intuition was what he prided himself upon. Instead, he was looking for information. Specifically, he was looking for information from one individual. Jane ignored the beautiful women who fluttered their eyelashes at him, the men who offered him cigarettes and determinedly, he carried on walking with his one focus in mind.

When he saw her, clad in a little black number, with red high heeled shoes and twirling an unlit cigarette between her forefinger and her thumb, he smiled. Her dark hair curled in at her shoulders, leaving her exposed back to be admired by many. Jane couldn't see her face, but he could imagine the haunted look behind her blue-green eyes and her ruby red lips in a tight pout.

She was precisely who he was looking for.

Whispers, rumors and speculation had clung to the air as much as the cigarette smoke did.

This woman knew about the man he was seeking. If he could press her buttons in just the right way, then maybe, there was half a chance that she would be willing to divulge all of her secrets into him.

Patrick Jane was a master manipulator and little more than a con-artist. If anyone could bend and break a woman, it was him. All he had to do was discover the chinks in her armor, the cracks in her shiny veneer. Then, he would have her simultaneously eating out of the palm of his hand and singing like a songbird. And then, he'd be able to get precisely what he needed from her.

Of course, the main problem was getting her to do just that first.

Wordlessly, he sat down on the barstool beside her. She glanced briefly in his direction, before staring aimlessly at the display of alcoholic beverages in front of her. Jane smiled and continued to stare at her. Eventually, she began to squirm slightly underneath his heavy gaze and reluctantly, she turned to face him. Her pretty features were marred by the scowl written all over her face, but she didn't seem to care. He watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear before she looked at him arrestingly.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"Barkeep," Jane called, clicking his fingers and turning away from her for the first time in five minutes.

The man was there within seconds. Just as any good bartender should be, even in this day and age.

"A scotch on the rocks for me, and whatever the lady's having."

"Who said I want a drink?"

"Why else would a beautiful woman like you be sitting in a bar like this?"

She shrugged and looked away. He should have known; anybody with information about the man he was looking for – who was still alive – had to be a tough customer. Even so, he was a persistent soul. This was something he needed to investigate, and he wasn't going to let her get away with it that easily.

"Need a light?"

"No," she replied and soon enough, the cigarette disappeared.

Jane continued trying to make conversation, but she shot him down with each and every answer. He expected that, but it didn't stop him from trying. There were skills he could try and use, but he wanted to try the softly-softly approach first. He couldn't risk scaring her away, or worse, panicking and being killed by the man he presumed was her master.

When she disappeared into the smoke, he couldn't deny that his ego had been bruised by the failure.

But he was still relentless. He still had a chance.

xxx

Every day, he figured out where she would be going and when she would be there. He tried to slot himself into her life as much as feasibly possible; he wanted to either make himself indispensable to her, or alternatively irritate her into actually opening up.

Sometimes, he believed he was getting somewhere. When she reluctantly accepted a drink for the very first time, or let him pay for a taxi cab ride home. But equally, she managed to turn off in an instant. The look behind her eyes became dead, distant. It was like her very spirit had been squashed. Then, she became impossible to interact with, she was moody and snappish. She stalked away, and managed to disappear into the ether with a click of her impossibly high heels.

Jane hoped that his efforts would come to fruition, and soon. There were other avenues he could have been exploring in order find the man he was looking for. However, he was less certain about them; he believed they were more likely to be red herrings. That was why he was putting all of his faith into her. She had to give him the payoff that he craved.

Didn't she?

xxx

"Mr. Jane," she remarked slowly over her drink. "Why do you insist upon following me around?"

He took up her wrist and slowly started to draw gentle circles across her skin. The action alone usually made women go weak at the knees. But this woman wasn't any old woman. She stared at him unflinchingly and didn't pull away. Instead, she allowed him continue with his ministrations as she took a slow and steady drink. She wanted an answer and she wasn't going to leave until he gave her one.

"Because you have something you want to tell me," he answered carefully and a wry smile briefly crossed his features. "Teresa."

"Do I?"

"You do."

"Maybe I don't. Maybe you have the wrong woman."

"I don't make mistakes."

"Please. Everyone does," she said dryly and tossed her hair down her bare back. "My current mistake? Entertaining anything you have to say, of course."

"Harsh. But possibly fair."

She fell silent and pulled away from him. Moments later, she gathered together her belongings – purse, vesta case, her jacket, and swept out of the bar. Jane knew that he would see her again. However, the question was, when?

xxx

He returned home to find his telephone ringing. Jane never received telephone calls, so he rushed to answer it.

When he heard Teresa's breathless voice on the other end of the line, he wasn't surprised.

What she had to say did, however: _my place, tonight, 11.30pm. Come alone._

Before he even had a chance to answer, she had rung off. But he had no arguments; of course he was going to go and see her. Jane found himself almost laughing at the irony. He'd wanted to have her at his beck and call, but now, it seemed like the reverse had occurred.

And he couldn't be happier about that. He knew he would be able to turn this into his advantage.

Naturally the moment the allotted time came around, he knocked three times on her front door and waited patiently for an answer.

xxx

Mouths met.

Doors closed.

Clothes shed.

Bed found.

Mouths parted

Fingers trailed.

Physical intimacy.

This wasn't exactly what he expected when he turned up on her doorstep, but he was more than happy to accept it nevertheless.

xxx

Come morning, she prepared eggs for him and they sat in a companionable silence for the duration of the meal. She still hadn't uttered a word relevant to his investigations, but he suspected it was coming soon. Teresa was uncharacteristically nervous; on numerous occasions, she selected a cigarette, only to put it back away again, and then repeated the action. Unlike him, who was more than happy to eat the entirety of his breakfast, she spent most her time pushing it around the plate.

When he was done, he took hold of her wrist. This time, she flinched. She was definitely nervous; she definitely felt uncomfortable. But somehow, he needed her to open up. Jane found himself almost missing the unflappable Teresa he had been spending time with for weeks. This new Teresa nearly made him feel nervous, too.

"Have you heard of Red John?" he enquired gently.

Again, she froze at the mention of his name.

"Maybe," Teresa replied coyly. "You'll have to tell me more."

"Liar."

"You got me. Of course I've heard of Red John."

"You know him?"

"Not personally. Why do you want to know?" she questioned.

And then, he explained. How his wife and daughter were brutally murdered by the serial killer after he discovered that Jane was investigating him as a part of his Private Eye business. How, after months of allowing the loss to nearly destroy him, he'd instead used it to spur him on. He needed to catch Red John, and he needed to honor his family. Jane explained how many of the avenues led to Teresa herself, and therefore, it made sense to pursue her.

She listened attentively and didn't flinch, even at the gory details. Part of Jane suspected that, from her very demeanor, she probably knew what Red John was like anyway. But then, that wasn't a surprise. If she did have information on him, or she was connected to him in some way, then of course she would have already known. However, he still needed to give her his personal insight into the situation. It was the only way to persuade her to break, or at least, confide in him.

"And you think I can help?" she asked.

"I was led to believe that you are a part of Red John's inner circle," he stated bluntly.

"Well I'm not," Teresa replied sharply, before adding, "yet."

"Yet?"

"I'm investigating him myself. I'm trying to infiltrate, but _you_ have been ruining my plans."

Jane spent a second pondering her statements. From her body language, her facial expressions, even her pulse rate, he could tell she was being entirely truthful. There wasn't any deceit or lies that she was trying to conceal. She really was trying to infiltrate Red John's circle in order to bring him down from the inside. How a pretty little thing like her could ever survive seemed like a wonder to him. But then, there was something special about her. Maybe it wasn't _that_ surprising, after all.

"I think we should work together, instead of against one another then."

"Not sure if I could compete with your ego," she remarked, smirking.

"Believe me, Teresa; you've done more damage to my ego in these past three months than anybody else has ever managed. Do we have a deal?"

"I'll think about it."

"I won't leave until you say yes."

"Fine, yes. Okay. Now what do you intend we do next?"

He smiled. He was expecting her to relent, but maybe not quite as quickly as that. At least she seemed to have fallen for his charms. And as far as he was concerned, the feeling was entirely mutual.

This was going to be the start of a very beautiful relationship.


End file.
